


inswinger

by aliaaaaaa



Series: webgottrash tumblr prompts [67]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Boyfriends Bonding Over Soccer, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Football | Soccer, M/M, Rare Competitive Webster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7751455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliaaaaaa/pseuds/aliaaaaaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wet grass, mud everywhere. Not-so-terrible conditions to play in if you’re a professional like Lieb. But for Web, who has zero knowledge on how soccer works, this pitch is like a war zone. </p><p>And Lieb will have a field day watching Web slip and slide on the muddy grass later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	inswinger

**Author's Note:**

> for that anon who requested for high schooler Lieb trying to show Web the fundamentals of soccer and Webster is terrible and Liebgott has a field day watching him stumble. 
> 
> and this person also wants cute moments.
> 
> how could I say no to fluff eh?
> 
> also, I don't have a single clue how football works so this is mostly with the help of Google and the videos on Youtube.
> 
>  
> 
> **Inswinger: A kick that curves in toward the goal.**
> 
>  
> 
> this has been beta-read by the lovely [Skip](http://musingsofapointlessexistence.tumblr.com/). all mistakes are mine!

The thing about dating the school soccer midfielder is that, more often than not Lieb will complain about how much time Web spends holing up in the library. The fact that Web is the member of the Library Club doesn’t mean anything to Lieb, because he will keep badgering Web to come out to the field with him so they can have “bonding sessions.”

“I don’t know why you want us to bond over soccer, Lieb,” Web grumbles as he follows his boyfriend to the wet soggy pitch because it’s been raining for hours and Lieb thinks today is a good idea to give Web the Fundamental Knowledge on Soccer. “You know I’m shit at it.”

Lieb doesn’t answer. Instead, he puts down his soccer ball on the ground and inspects the condition of the field.

Wet grass, mud everywhere. Not-so-terrible conditions to play in if you’re a professional like Lieb. But for Web, who has zero knowledge on how soccer works, this pitch is like a war zone. 

And Lieb will have a field day watching Web slip and slide on the muddy grass later.

“You really think it’s advisable to practice soccer on this field?” Web asks, standing next to Lieb; their elbows brushing slightly as Web too inspects the field, hands on his waist. 

“It’s a perfect condition for a newbie like you,” Lieb answers and kicks the lone ball to the middle of the wide soccer pitch, grinning widely when he hears Web yelling, “I don’t even want to play soccer!”

“Come on, Web! You already look like a soccer player! That jersey suits you well!” Lieb smirks widely, all sharp teeth showing as he gives his boyfriend an obvious once over, liking the way the tight shiny white blue jersey clings unto Web’s toned body. 

“Turn around!” Lieb shouts. 

Web rolls his eyes but he turns around and Lieb feels a surge of pride when he sees _his_ number on Web’s back. 17. His birth date below Webster’s name.

“Are we gonna play? Or are you gonna stare at my ass the whole day, Lieb?”

Lieb laughs and yells at Web to come over to him. Web takes his time, careful not to run too fast and he’s making a disgusted face when mud clings on his calves.

“I just bought these socks,” Web pouts. Lieb smacks the back of his head lightly. “Don’t be such a baby.”

Web huffs lightly but pays attention when he sees the look on Lieb’s face; the serious, faraway look that he always has whenever he’s thinking of a possible plan to win a match. Being made vice-captain by Chuck Grant have matured Lieb when it comes to decision making. Lieb claps his hands loudly and Web leans in to hear the plan. He doesn’t even want to be here in this soggy wet field but something about seeing Lieb this serious makes Web want to do things that he rarely does.

“Alright, first off. Your ass looks great in those shorts by the way,” Lieb says and Web tries not to smile but one look from Lieb makes Web breaks into a wide smile that he has turned the other way when Lieb grins back at him. “Second off,” Lieb says, grabbing Web’s face to look at him again. “We won’t do anything strenuous today, just us having fun on the field.”

“By us you meant you, right?” 

Lieb grins and it has that evil edge to it that makes Web groans out loud. “I knew this is such a bad idea. Why do I even agree to do this with you?”

“Because you love me. Come on! Let’s see if you can steal this ball from me!”

With a shout, Lieb kicks the ball around Web’s legs and jogs past Web with ease, controlling his paces so as not to fall on his ass due to the slippery condition of the field. 

Web just stands still, turning around to watch his boyfriend dribbles the ball expertly, closing the gap between his foot and the surface of the ball lightly; his face alternating between looking at the ball and the empty goal area.

On field, Lieb transforms into someone else. He looks more determined, more focused, less violent. Soccer has changed the usual hotheaded Liebgott into levelheaded Liebgott and Web is content to just watch his boyfriend having fun playing.

But that isn’t the case for Lieb because he has stopped running and he has the bitch face on and Web thinks _“Uh-oh.”_

“What the fuck are you doing there gaping at me for?” Lieb yells, one foot on the ball, his hands on his waist. “Hurry the fuck up and chase me, you idiot!”

“Why?” Web shouts back.

“Because that’s the purpose of playing soccer! You chase each other to steal the ball and try to score as many goals as possible!”

“The whole game doesn’t even make sense, Lieb! Why would you tire yourself to chase a ball? Why can’t everyone has their own set of ball and play with it?”

“Oh, Web. You beautiful disaster of a nerd. Don’t let Martin hear you say that. Now come here before I go there and kick your ass!”

With a quiet groan, Web moves to get closer to Lieb and he pouts when Lieb glares at him. 

“I’m surprised you have a toned body given how much you sit on your ass instead of moving around.”

“Hey! I run with you everyday, you ungrateful miscreant!” 

“Then you wouldn’t have any problem of stealing this ball from me while running, right?” Lieb quirks his eyebrow and Web just looks back, a bored expression on his face.

Lieb groans internally. His plan of teaching Web to enjoy playing soccer isn’t working but Chuck doesn’t put him as second-in-command of Airborne Team for nothing. He licks his bottom lip, puts on his bored expression and walks away. Dribbling the ball lightly as he moves from Web. 

“It’s fine if you don’t wanna play, Web. I know you’re too chicken to compete against me anyway,” Lieb says over his shoulder, turning down his mouth into a sneer. “Go sit on the bench and wait for me. Or go home. Or whatever.” 

It’s a mean thing to say to his boyfriend but--

Lieb positions the ball in front of the empty goal area. When he raises his foot to kick it, in comes Web running passed him and lightly kick the ball away from his boot.

He turns to see Web looking at him, his foot on the ball, a scowl on his face. “I know what you’re doing, Lieb. And I have to admit that it’s working because right now I am upset enough to want to kick your ass.”

Lieb smiles widely, pleased that his plan is working. He can handle a pissed off Web just fine anyway.

“Yeah? Why don’t you come here and show me how upset you are?”

“Why don’t _you_ come here instead and try to steal this from me?”

With a wide predatory grin, Lieb charges at his boyfriend and Web, having had a good 5 meters headstart, runs away with the ball in between his feet and mere seconds after that, Lieb easily intercepts the ball. 

Web chases Lieb, running behind and trying to kick the ball from Lieb’s foot. But Lieb is faster, he dribbles the ball left and right and does a complicated set of maneuvering that confuses Web. Laughter bubbles out from his chest when he feels Web’s fingers pulling at the back of his jersey, tugging at it hard until Lieb almost falls over to the ground.

“FOUL!” Lieb shouts and the both of them stop running.

“How is that a foul? I barely grazed your jersey!”

“Dumbass, you almost dislocate my head with the hard tugging!”

“You’re just being a big baby! I saw you did that to the other players!”

“And I got yellow-carded because of that shit! So one yellow card for you!”

“For _fuck_ sake!”

_“Play ball!”_

They continue playing. 

Lieb notices the determined look on Web’s face, the one that he always puts on when he’s studying for his exams. He ups his skill, not giving a chance for Web to come near him at all. It’s supposed to be a fun game between them, but seeing this competitive side of Web that has nothing to do with studying makes something in Lieb comes alive.

Lieb maneuvers the ball and runs towards the goal, moving as fast as he can but still, he can’t quite shake Web from trailing behind him. Lieb is surprised that Web is coordinated enough to run that fast on a wet field. But then it’s not surprising that Web has the same stamina level as him. They do jog together after all. And all the sex they’ve been doing help too.

With his head too clouded with the images of Web fucking him from behind, he loses control of the ball and predictably, Web steals the ball from his foot and runs fast with it, heading towards the goal mouth. _Predictably_ , he runs after Web and pulls the back collar of Web’s jersey hard until Web yelps and yells, “FOUL!”

“Not a foul!” Lieb yells back, kicking the ball away from Web’s foot and side-stepping Web easily. 

“How come is not a fucking foul for you?” Web shouts.

“My field, my fucking rule!” Lieb shouts back and he runs faster to escape Web’s wrath but Web is already behind him, cursing loudly as his foot tries to intercept the ball.

Lieb tries to elbow Web, but Web moves faster; already familiar with how Lieb plays the game after watching him on the field for two years now. But that doesn’t stop Lieb from trying just about anything. 

He stops running and Web almost collides on his back. They are both panting, shoulders tensing as they try to outwit each other. Lieb lazily dribbles the ball and his arms are blocking Web from coming near him. When he sees Web’s eyes going out of focus, he runs again, only Web is ready for Lieb’s sudden movements. He has his fingers in Lieb’s jersey and pulls hard. So hard that there’s a sudden loud ripping sound.

“Mother _fucker!_ ” Lieb shouts at the same time Web kicks the ball hard that it goes straight inside the goal, bouncing on the net before rolling back out again.

“HE CAME, HE SAW, AND HE FUCKING SCORED! GOOOOOOOOOOOOAL!” Web screams on top of his lungs, wanting to do the victory knee-slide he always sees Lieb do but the ground is wet and muddy and he doesn’t want to bruise his knees. 

Except--

\--Lieb suddenly tackles him from the back, making both of them tumble on the muddy ground.

Lieb rolls them around so he can straddle Web’s waist. “You fucker! You tore my jersey!” 

As if by instinct, Web wraps his arms around Lieb’s back; keeping Lieb securely safe within his arms and when his fingers caress the soft skin of Lieb’s back, he breaks into a wide grin.

“Oh my god! Did I really do that? Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Web apologizes, except he’s laughing and Lieb lightly punches Web’s stomach.

“It’s not funny, you asshole! Now I gotta ask for a new jersey!”

Web is still laughing, his face turning red and he tries to stop, he really does, but Lieb’s pissed off face reminds him so much a baby. 

“You’re an asshole,” Lieb pouts and Web bites the inside of his cheeks to stop laughing.

He scoots up and uses his elbows as leverage. “I’m sorry. I will tell Chuck that I did it, okay?” Web coaxes but Lieb is stubbornly still pouting so Web brings out the big gun. He leans up to pepper Lieb’s face with soft kisses; starting from his jaw to his to the tip of his nose. Murmuring _I’m sorry_ along the way and Lieb hums gently when Web slots their mouths together, pulling Lieb down by his neck to kiss Lieb deeper.

“You’re still an ass,” Lieb murmurs when they pull apart, and he leans down again to kiss Web, once, twice, three times because Web is smiling at him, because Web is flashing those shining baby blues at him, because Web looks happy.

“Don’t forget you said my ass looks great,” Web quips back easily, grinning when Lieb rolls his eyes at him.

“I take back whatever I said about you being a wonderful boyfriend,” Lieb grumbles and slumps down on Web’s torso; breathing in the smell of wet earth and salty sweat and the distinct smell of Web’s expensive cologne. He wants to stay here like this a bit longer, being wrapped by Web’s arms in the middle of the soccer pitch. 

He feels content, a feeling that he keeps experiencing more and more now he’s with Web.

But he also feels sticky from the mud and the sweat and he can already feel his calves burning up from not doing any stretching before running. 

“Wanna go shower?” Lieb asks, his head still resting on Web’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeats.

“Will we be doing anything else other than showering?” 

Lieb pulls himself off of Web and helps Web up. They both are dirty and in need of thorough showering but the idea of letting Web fucks him in the shower stall is intriguing.

“I don’t know. I don’t usually have shower sex with a cheater. And you _did_ cheat and I have the evidence to prove it.” 

Web only smiles at Lieb, walking closer to his boyfriend until his bulky frames bumping with Lieb’s skinny frames.

“Did you see me score that goal?” Web asks, casually slinging his arm around Lieb’s shoulder and pulling him closer; smoothing his palm over Lieb’s exposed back.

“That goal doesn’t count because you cheated, Web!” 

“Yeah, yeah! But did you see it?”

Lieb glances at Web and then looks up ahead and he smiles from the happy expectant expression on Web’s face.

“Yeah,” Lieb answers, softly, planting a kiss on Web’s face as they walk together side by side to the shower room. “I saw it and you were amazing, Web.”

Web smiles, pulling Lieb closer to him so he can kiss Lieb’s lips; soft presses of lips and gentle licks of tongues that leave them both breathless.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that shower sex offer after all,” Lieb murmurs, and Web smiles against Lieb’s mouth before kissing his boyfriend again.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are very much appreciated!


End file.
